


Of Long Nights, Little Talks

by TeaBagTurtle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), and how they got together, pretty much how thor and bruce handled the events of infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaBagTurtle/pseuds/TeaBagTurtle
Summary: Bruce could not fall asleep.In which Bruce thinks a little too much about the past, his life, and Thor.





	Of Long Nights, Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about Infinity War and these two idiots.

The trees were particularly loud that night, with wind aggressively pushing at the sturdy branches and rustling through the thick leaves. The crickets were loud enough to be heard from open windows, and the moon was bright enough to be seen reflecting off the battered walls of the bedroom.

Bruce could not fall asleep.

That was not a surprise, since the events of the past few months were stressful enough to keep him anxiously awake for the next century. Between the terrifying adventuring on unfamiliar planets, attacking evil family members, and ending a psychopathic mass murderer, Bruce was certain he had enough excitement in the past few months to last a lifetime.

So, yes, his mind was buzzing with anxiety. Not exactly the _oh god I’m a horrible person_ type of anxiety (although that was sure to haunt him many other nights), but rather just buzzing with busy thoughts, thinking about how much has changed in himself, in the Avengers, in _everything_. It was the type of anxiety where Bruce ruminated on the past, questioned what could have been, if just one thing – one slight detail - went wrong in the past.

Bruce tiredly sat up in his bed and glanced at the clock.

_2:34 A.M._

The red numbers flashed repeatedly at him as he tiredly rubbed his face. Next to him, Thor was laying flat on his stomach with his arms hugging the pillow like an octopus and legs splayed out against the cotton sheets. He snored softly into his cushion and seemed peaceful for the most part, with drool slightly dripping from his breathing mouth.

Years ago, Bruce never thought that the god was capable of _drooling_. And he certainly didn’t believe he would be there to witness it himself.

Bruce always found it funny how well they seemed to work together almost perfectly. Thor always had a habit of kicking off blankets and splaying out, his large body nearly taking up the entire bed. Bruce, on the other hand, always ended up curled in the corner, hogging all of the blankets and wrapping himself in a nest of comforters and soft sheets. Despite these differences, they always ended up tangled together in the morning - with Thor’s incomprehensible need to sleep-snuggle everything in existence and Bruce’s tendency to roll right into the god’s arms. This worked well, even on the bad nights, when Bruce could not stand to be close, when even his shirt felt like little spikes skewering into his skin and the air conditioning sounded like rockets ready to combust in his ears. Thor gave him space when he needed, and he gave Thor comfort when the time came.

Bruce sighed and lifted himself from the bed, feeling his bones creak and muscles whine in protest. He trudged to the kitchen and turned on the stove, opting for a warm cup of tea to accompany him for the night. The stove flicker with its orange and blue and violet lights, reminding Bruce of a reoccurring nightmare – a golden gauntlet, branded with six glorious, beautiful stones, used for nonsense evil.

It had been months since Thanos. Months since the somber weeks, where the Avengers – broken and distant – sat with the ashes of their loved ones covering their knees. It had been months since Bruce saw Steve Rogers – a man he associated with the stubborn will live and fight – clutching the grass like it was his life line and begging the stars for an answer, a way out of the gruesome mess. It had been months since Bruce saw Tony crash to Earth in an alien space ship, with a blue being from another planet. He still remembered the frantic look on Tony’s face – the bagged eyes and bleeding fingertips that came with sleepless nights of designing and crafting, the desperate cling onto any idea that may be a solution – any thing that may tear away his guilt.

It was only a few months ago, when Bruce had stumbled upon Thor sitting alone in the grass a few days after the events of the kill-half-the-universe snap.

_(“I almost had him.” Thor gasped, his voice hoarse and eyes wet with exhaustion from the battle – from everything that had happened since Sakaar. “I could have stopped this.”_

_Bruce kneeled with Thor in the grass, placing his hand on the god’s shoulder. Bruce was never good at comforting others; He had enough trouble comforting himself in nerve wracking situations. But, he was willing to listen. So, he sat next to Thor, rubbing shy circles into his shoulders and nodded his head, urging for the god to continue._

_“I wanted – needed – revenged. So much that I was blinded from the mission.”_

_Thor blankly stared off to the Wakandan mountains, where the sun was peacefully setting with a breathtaking pink and orange glow. Bruce almost laughed at the stark irony – how something so beautifully tranquil could be paired with the gut wrenching sensation of loss. “What do you mean?” Asked Bruce._

_“I had a chance to end Thanos – to strike him in the head and kill him. But I was so - so blinded with hatred - anger. I could not even stop to think correctly.”_

_Bruce shook his head in disbelief. Here was Thor, a guy who had lost everything he’d known -his father, his planet, his brother, his evil sister – within the span of days, and yet he still buries himself in blame for the tragedies of the universe. Bruce knew something about anger. He knew that it could bury inside of you – turn you into some evil-twisted version of yourself. But, he also knew the man – the god – that stood before him was good, was righteous and worthy to no fault – that he did not deserve the burden that came from anger._

_“You’re only human. Well - not human, but you know what I mean.” Bruce grimaced. He was doing this completely wrong. “What I mean is – This is not your fault. You only did what you felt was right, and that is the best you can do in shitty situations like these.”_

_Thor smiled weakly, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “I suppose so.” He then turned to Bruce, eyes still shining with unshed tears, and softly places his hand on the back of Bruce’s neck. Bruce can feel Thor’s eyes travel to every part of his face, as if looking for the answers to the universe in the nebula of his eyes, the folds of his lashes, the creases of his lips. After a welcome pause, he looks into Bruce’s eyes again. “Thank you, Banner.”_

_Bruce nods awkwardly, returning a slightly confident smile. He nods his head toward the sunset, clumsily drawing attention away from his face. “The sun’s going down.” Bruce said lightly, lifting his gaze to where he could see the hints of stars forming in the darkening sky. “We should go in. Get some rest.”_

_Thor agreed, and the both of them shuffle into the Wakandan palace, with arms wrapped steadily around each other.)_

A month after Thanos, after grieving and picking up the pieces once again, things began settling. The Avengers were able to bring back the people that were once ashes and return to their some-what normal lives. Tony returned to his usual chatty, smart-mouthed self, and Steve began making rounds to the Avengers tower with Barnes and Wilson once again. However, the damage was still done. They still had lost too much from Thanos’ conquest for the infinity stones.

Wanda was still left with nightmares of a kind, purple face and glowing, yellow stone. She spent her days constantly training, trying to find something – anything – to keep her mind occupied.

Once in a while, Peter Parker would unexpectedly visit after a long day of classes, and just sit in the Tower’s living room with juice box clutched tightly in his hand and a haunted look on his face. The kid seemed warier since Thanos, a little more jumpy and nervous.

_(“Sometimes it’s easier to just be here.” Peter says, one day when Bruce asks him. “My aunt is helpful, she listens and – and helps. But you - the Avengers. You all understand.”_

_Peter’s gaze shifts to the ground as his knees jump nervously with every silent beat. “After it happened – after Thanos, I have been having trouble with - everything. I mean – I – I almost died.” He looks at Bruce once again, a hollow look in his eyes and an uneasy smile. “I did die.”_

_Bruce nods, wringing his hands together as if they will give him an all curing sentence, some way to comfort the teen in front of him. He looks at Peter, takes in the dark circles under his eyes and pale color to his lips. “We’ll be here. Anytime you need.”_

_Peter smiles a little more firmly this time, “Thank you.”)_

The kettle shrieked, waking Bruce from his thoughts. He quickly turned to fill the chipped mug with boiling water and set the kettle back on the silent stove. He opened the cabinet which was reserved for boxes upon boxes of tea bags with different flavors and smells. After retrieving a tea bag, Bruce settled at the dining table and diligently soaked the tea bag in water, waiting for the smell of green tea to reach his nose.

It was funny how he still remembered where everything was in this house – the tea bags, the extra toilet paper, the stash of whiskey and wine. This was an out-house, a sort of vacation home, that Tony visited with Bruce years ago after Loki’s attack in New York. It wasn’t much, just a tiny cottage outside of a forest in Massachusetts, where the only visits they received were from quiet deer and excited squirrels.

Tony claimed that they both were in dire need of a vacation - just two science bros chilling out. Turns out the spontaneous vacation did help a bit. It kept the Other Guy at bay and gave Bruce time away from the city, away from the stress of alien attacks and super hero – or villain - problems. Tony gave Bruce the keys to the house, claiming that he had several other vacation homes to relax in – which was probably true – and definitely would not miss this one lonely shack.

_(“In case you need an out.” Tony said, pressing the keys to Bruce’s palm. “You’ve always got a place to stay.”)_

After years of fighting more aliens, between the Ultron mishap and whatever happened in Siberia, the old place was forgotten between the two of them. It wasn’t until a few months after Thanos’ attack that Bruce remembered the small cottage and brought Thor for a visit.

 _God_ , Thor.

Bruce could not even begin to describe Thor.

Nobody saw this coming – A righteous, boisterous god and an awkward, slightly-dangerous scientist. It sounded like the start to a terrible bar joke.

After Sakaar, after Hela and giant dog-monster and Thanos’ snap, Bruce and Thor seemed to gravitate towards each other. They found comfort in each other’s stories, the valiant and tragic tales of Thor’s childhood, the solemn and dark memories of Bruce’s life. The thing was – it was easy to feel comfortable near Thor. There was no need to act, no need to hide his angers or frustrations for the sake of others. Thor would simply listen with an understanding nod and a sincere smile, comfortingly tracing constellations into Bruce’s hands.

And Bruce began to think that maybe he was good for Thor. Maybe Thor also relied on him too – for the sleepless nights and rough days and tiring mornings. Maybe Thor saw beauty in him, just as Bruce found fascination in Thor. Years ago, Bruce could never fathom the concept of coming this close to the normal, happy relationship. A normal, happy _life_. But now…

Now Bruce felt confident in himself, his actions, his words, his own thoughts. He could feel pride in his own life – like there was something there for him. Something for him to grasp proudly with two determined hands and an elated, sun-beaming smile and finally say _he had control of his own damn life_.

Maybe it was waking up on a colorful alien planet that did the trick. Maybe it was racing across the skies of that planet or jumping from an alien spaceship or eating weird space bug-worm noodles that changed Bruce. Maybe, it wasn’t anything. It was just Bruce slowly giving into self-care, realizing that self-love was not egocentric or shameful, but something that everyone – even him – deserved.

 

 

They eventually got in touch with Valkyrie, who was – thankfully – alive and as well as a warrior could be. After receiving her hologram message, Thor insisted that the three of them meet up once again, to catch up on things that had happened. He was desperate to learn of what happened to the Asgardians after Thanos’ arrival.

Valkyrie immediately agreed and – to no surprise – demanded that they meet up for drinks in a quiet tavern on a planet outside of Earth’s solar system.

By the time the two of them reached the entrance, Val was waiting for them inside, her hands already clutching bottles of drinks. She greeted them with a wide smile and immediately handed them bottles and plates of food.

_(“Looks like you two made it out of the chaos just fine.” She grinned and rested her arms with ease upon the table. Bruce remembered her face, seemingly more open and friendly since he had seen her on Sakaar, but still tired, carved with a jaded look in her eyes and heavy bags to match them._

_They chatted away, catching each other up on their adventures and laughing at their endless banter. Bruce remembered seeing the grin on Thor’s face, the ease of his smile and the amused crinkle in his eye as they joked. It was something he had not seen on the god’s face in a long time. Fate had not treated Thor well in the past few months – with death looming at his shoulder at every step – but here, in this tiny tavern, Bruce saw a glimpse of hope, a spectacle of pure joy._

_But that was not all Bruce remembered._

_He remembered the curve of Thor’s lips pressed into a smile, the warm glow of his eyes, the radiance of his cheekbones flickering in the firelight. Bruce could have traced constellations in the blue irises of his eyes. He was hopelessly entranced, as if looking away would bring pain to his soul, hunger to his heart._

_After their chattering slowed and their stomachs were filled, the three clumsily left their table and left the tavern, arms swinging and chuckles bubbling from their stomachs. The sky had turned from an entrancing golden color to a mysterious dark shade that consumed the air._

_Val turned to the two of them with a wide smile “Well,” She huffed with a content sigh, “I should be going. Things to do and such.” She tilted her head slightly, her smile turning wistful and soft. “Come visit me sometime. I missed this – the three of us.”_

_Thor smiled, “Of course.”_

_They watched as Val hopped onto her new spaceship – a slick vehicle lined with intricate patterns of pink, purple, and blue swirls – and sped off into the luminescent sky._

_“Should we go back now?” Bruce asked, turning his gaze up to Thor’s face. “Back to Earth.”_

_Thor was so still and silent that Bruce almost thought he didn’t hear the question. The god had a wistful look in his eye, as he sighed and gazed longingly at the stars and galaxy. Thor slowly shook his head and released a small chuckle. “No. No, Let’s – let’s just stay here a little. Just a little bit.”_

_Bruce smiled, “Okay. Let’s do that.”_

_And so, they walked – mindlessly roaming underneath the open sky and above the perfectly quiet land. This planet was peaceful, overtaken by endless forests and rivers and **life** that Bruce was sure he could feel the entirety of this world jittering on his fingertips. The sky was a gorgeous mosaic – brightened from the enchanting stars and nebulas that swirled in and out of view. _

_Thor stopped walking when they reached the edge of a tranquil river, his eyes looking ahead at the starlight reflecting on the calm waters._

_“Thor?”_

_Thor’s eyes shifted and he released a heavy sigh, as if he was breaking out of a peaceful trance. At some point, Bruce’s hand instinctively reached for Thor’s shoulder, as if a simple touch could bring all justice and comfort in the world. “Are you okay?” Bruce asks, shifting his body more towards Thor._

_Thor’s lips turned up slightly as he turned his head to Bruce, “Yes, I’m fine. More than fine, actually.”_

_Bruce could feel Thor’s stare on him, like the warmth of a sun tickling the edge of his nose and cheeks. There was something completely indescribable about Thor – about the way he looked when he was contemplating something. Thor looked at him like he was discovering the vast wonders of the universe, the mysteries and secrets of life itself – and all Bruce could do was stare blankly at him, waiting for some kind of response._

_Eventually, the golden-haired god took a deep breath and nervously wet his bottom lip – a habit that Bruce found that Thor did in times of worry – and spoke slowly._

_“Bruce, I need to thank you.”_

_“What for?” Bruce found himself stepping closer to Thor, like magnets brought together by an unimaginable force. At some point – Bruce can’t remember when – Thor’s hand had found his shoulder. The two of them were so close._

_Thor looked at him with sincerity, his eyes glowing with something new – a good, light kind of different. A kind of different that made Bruce’s heart bounce and his cheeks tingle. He stepped into Bruce’s space, and somehow, at some point, the god’s hand had shifted to meet his cheek, thumb grazing the outside of Bruce’s lips._

_“You – you are my light, my stars, Banner. I do not know how, but I think we – this -” Thor dipped his head in sudden timidity, the stars reflecting off his golden hair like a beacon. “Bruce, I – I have lost everything. And yet you still manage to guide me, give me this direction to complete myself. I want to thank you, for everything. I do not know how I could possibly deserve you. And I – I hope you can forgive me for my feelings.”_

_Bruce’s breath caught in his throat. “What d-?”_

_And then, they were kissing._

_Well, Thor kissed him._

_On the lips._

_Slowly and tenderly and with enough love to make Bruce’s knees bounce and his heart soar at miles a minute._

_Thor was kissing him and Bruce could only think **god, this is really fucking nice**. It was gentle and sweet and quite frankly the best damn kiss Bruce ever had. _

_And slowly – very slowly – after much internal panicking and swooning and breathless joy, Bruce kissed him back, his hands sliding into the god’s hair and down his back, exploring every once of pure emotion there was to know._

_When they pulled apart, their foreheads still touching, Bruce was laughing breathlessly. Thor could only narrow his eyes in confusion. Bruce felt himself grinning, like the curve of his lips and wrinkles near his eyes would be ingrained on his face for eternity._

_“I don’t think your feelings will be a problem.”)_

 

 

_(Later, when they returned to Earth, Thor tangles his fingers through Bruce’s hair and whispers, his eyes shining like infinite stars._

_“Let’s go somewhere. No evil sisters, no lunatic mass-murdering aliens. Just somewhere nice.”_

_Bruce grinned, “I think I know a place.”)_

 

 

Bruce heard a small creak from the floor boards and turned to see the god of thunder himself, disheveled and sleepy, entering into the kitchen. Thor rubbed his eyes – one a crystal blue, one a robotic gold– and quietly yawned with the lethargic stretch of his arms. Thor glanced up and smiled at Bruce – a smile that could light thousands of volcanoes in his heart and burn hundreds of worries from his mind – with his eyes blinking slowly into the bright lights of the kitchen.

“What are you doing up?” Thor asked, slowly shuffling over to the table. His feet donned a new pair of slippers – the kind that had memory foam stitched to the insides of them. Bruce remembered when they first bought the slippers, Thor had been insistent that those slippers were the most wonderful invention made by humans and that he would immediately buy a pair for Bruce as well. Bruce never really wore them around the house, opting more often to walk around barefoot, but he still enjoyed the sentiment.

“Thinking.” Bruce said, tilting his head slightly as Thor rested his forehead on Bruce’s shoulder. The god sat on the chair next to him.

“Mm.” Thor mumbled, wrapping one arm around Bruce’s stomach. “What of?”

“I don’t know.” Bruce took another sip of his tea. “Everything.”

He looked down, tracing the scars and lines that ran down Thor’s arm to his hands. Bruce pressed each of his fingers against Thor’s, reveling at the calluses and marks that covered both of their hands before entwining their fingers together.

“You ever think about how much has changed? Since – I don’t know – Sakaar, Ultron… The chitari?”

Thor hummed, looking up and resting his chin on Bruce’s neck, “Yes, a lot has changed. Things that I can never forget.” He gives their hands a slight squeeze before kissing behind Bruce’s ear. “But in the end, I got to be with you.”

Bruce chuckled, feeling a flutter in his stomach, a longing chant in his heart. He turned, and his hands made their way to Thor’s forehead, pushing back the golden hair and cupping the sides of his cheeks. Thor closed his eyes.

“I’m not much,” Bruce murmured, “Just an old scientist with a green problem.”

Thor shook his head, his eyes - blue and golden - opening to meet Bruce’s, “I have lived thousands of years, seen billions of galaxies, but _you_ – I have never met or even dreamed of meeting someone as kind and generous and brilliant as you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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